Homecoming
by Galenfea
Summary: Thranduil wants to know why his son is being followed by fangirls... oh, and a dwarf. V. short. Chapter two: Legolas' family meet the fangirls. This occassions a few disappointments...
1. I want to know

The usual, I own nothing that is Tolkien's.

This is another group effort between me and my mum, about Legolas' homecoming to Mirkwood after the quest.

………………..

Thranduil drummed his fingers on the arm of his throne as he looked down at the two rather sheepish-looking guards. He had a headache coming on, but he had to deal with the large number of pressing questions that had just arrived, along with his son, Legolas.

"I sent you," he began, softly and slowly, "With my son, to Imladris, to make sure that he didn't get into any trouble. And when he comes back…" Thranduil left the sentence hanging for long enough to make them squirm. "Not only is he friends with a _dwarf_…" he all but spat the word like a curse, "But he is _pursued_ by _hordes_ of screaming… young… mortal… women." He leant back again. "I would advise you to make the explanation you are about to give _phenomenal_."

There was a pause.

"Well," said the braver of the two. He quailed under Thranduil's glare (the headache was getting worse). "It really wasn't our fault."

Thranduil sighed. "I didn't think it would be." Under his breath, he added, "And even if it were I wouldn't expect you to admit it straight off." This was the same Elven captain that had let the last lot of dwarves escape. He had said that wasn't his fault either. Thranduil had asked him in scathing tones if Galion had tied him down and force-fed him the strong wine. He had stopped making excuses at that point.

"Well, you see… Elrond Halfelven…"

"Might have known that he'd be involved. Only half-Elven, and that half's Noldorin!" This was not quite true, but nobody was going to point that out to Thranduil when he was in this sort of mood.

"Well… he sent him on this quest with four Halflings, the dwarf, two men, and… Mithrandir."

"Oh, no! There's trouble, there's unmitigated disaster, and there's _anything_ involving Mithrandir! Last time he came through here he had a Halfling with him. It wasn't one of them, was it?"

"No, but I think one of them was related to him."

"So who were the men?"

"Well, there was Boromir son of Denethor of Minas Tirith, and Aragorn son of Arathorn."

"Oh _no_! It's lucky he came back at all! The last thing I heard of that guy was when he ran nearly two hundred of the Lórien elves into a wall of orkish pikes and was the only one to come out alive. You should have heard Celeborn on the subject! Not repeatable…" Thranduil spent a moment remembering the irate lord of Lórien's rant on the subject of Aragorn. Then he added, "So where do the hordes of screaming young mortal women come into it?"

"Well, this short, fat bearded guy…"

"A dwarf?"

"No, I _think_ he was a man. He decided to make a film about it. And all these young women decided that they were in love with Prince Legolas."

Thranduil nodded. "Well," he muttered, "I don't know _what_ his wife's going to say on the subject…"

………………

TBC…


	2. Cut to Legolas' house

I own nothing but daft ideas…

Part 2, in which the fangirls meet Legolas' family…

………………………

"Honestly, _meleth nin_, I don't know why they're following me!" protested Legolas, facing his wife's back as she glowered around a curtain at the mortal women surrounding the house. Inwardly, he cursed the fact that this had happened to ruin his reunion with his family after so long. "They started months ago."

"Well," she replied, "they can stop following you right now."

"I've tried everything I can think of. If I try to tell them to go away, they all scream and several swoon."

"_Ada_?" Númenhil, Legolas' eldest son, entered the room. Legolas turned and smiled at him. It was Númenhil that had met him in his father's hall and had carried the news of his return home. "_Ada_, what are all those screaming young mortal women doing outside?"

"They are looking for your father," said Dimfeniel acidly, shooting another look at the curtained window, through which the cries of the mortals could be heard. Legolas suppressed a shudder. He had thought that here, in his own home, he would be safe from them.

"They keep saying something about 'Leggy'."

"That's their name for me."

"Why?"

"I don't know whether it's meant to be affectionate, or they simply cannot pronounce 'Legolas'. From what I've seen of them, it could be either."

"Shall I try talking to them?" asked Dimfeniel. "I shall attempt to inform them that any more attempts to be affectionate towards you will not be tolerated." She snickered. "Leggy. It has a certain something."

Legolas grimaced. "Please don't call me that, _meleth nin_."

She smiled and kissed the tip of his nose. "Very well."

But even as she turned to go to the door, they both heard Númenhil's voice from outside.

"What do you lot want?"

Legolas swore under his breath, suddenly afraid for Númenhil. He went to get up, but his wife restrained him, her hands on his shoulders.

"He'll be fine," she murmured in his ear.

All this time, the voices had been growing louder. "We want Leggy! We want Leggy!"

The chant continued, but Númenhil spoke over it.

"What? You mean my father?"

Sudden silence fell.

"What?" wailed one female voice. "Leggy's your father? But that means he's _old_!"

Hand-in-hand, Legolas and Dimfeniel went to the door and looked out. Legolas grinned, putting an arm around his wife's shoulders. He decided to overlook the comment about his age. At the sight of the two of them, several mortals burst into tears. He noticed that these were mainly the ones wearing shirts emblazoned with the words 'Marry me, Leggy!'. It was a heartening sight.

"I warned you!" called a voice from the midst of the crowd. "I warned you, but would you listen to me? Oh, no, you knew it all, didn't you? Oh, he's about twenty and a bachelor, isn't he? Well, it's always the same, I always tell them, but do they listen to me? Oh, no…"

"Oh, do shut up!" yelled one of the mortals, who seemed to be something of a leader. "Remind me again why we brought you? You've been nothing but a pain!"

"Because I know more about Middle-Earth than concerns Legolas' appearance and archery skills."

"Oh yes." The leader shot the anonymous expert a look of deep dislike.

"Are you going to go away now?" snarled Dimfeniel.

"One more thing," said the leader. She turned to Númenhil. "What's your name?"

"Prince Númenhil."

"Are you married?"

"Uh…" Númenhil was starting to look worried. "No?"

There was muttering in the ranks. "Well, he's not blond…" "I always thought dark guys were hot…" "He's so tall…"

"Uh-oh." This was exactly what Legolas had feared might happen. He called over to Númenhil in Sindarin, which most of them seemed not to understand. "_Drego, ion nin!_"

Númenhil cursed, then turned and ran for it just as the young mortal women started towards him.

_End… I think._

………………………

Sindarin:

Meleth nin My love  
Ada Dad  
Drego, ion nin! flee, my son!


End file.
